Continued From Page 2
The shrubbery is more lush and green than anywhere in the states. The radiant colors of the Temple flowers would inspire any custom painter. The city of Papeete is wild with a strong European flair. It’s right on the harbor. The main street has 100 year old commercial buildings on one side and only a broad sidewalk on the other separates it from the water. Yachts back up to the concrete abutment and moor. You can step off the stern of your ketch and walk across the street to the bank or coffee shop.
The third day we jumped in Kiki’s van and headed toward the catamaran ferry boat that hauls ass to Moorea. The comfortable ship’s seating kicked ass as it flew over the surf at 30 knots for the half hour jaunt to the clover leaf island of Moorea. Another van snatched us and packed us off to the Sofitel Ia Ora Hotel on the coast, only three miles from the ferry port.
This hotel was made up of a myriad of Palapas (or huts) some set on steel pillars over the water of which we were graced. Additional Palapas were set in gardens in the grassy property or overlooking the beach. One of the myriads of startling aspects of this journey was the bountiful breakfasts and fruit available from Pomegranate, passion fruit, oranges, limes, mango, and grapefruit like curvy Layla had never seen before. Guava, Polynesian vanilla, avocado to Papaya and pineapple like you’ve never encountered lay before us. Incredibly lush fruit and rich jams.
That night we attended a Polynesian banquet at the hotel with a traditional dancing show, enhanced with the native colors of the Tiare Tarona group costumes and the beauty of the dancing Vahines (Polynesian women). It was the perfect invitation to the rest of the week. Another night we ate at a restaurant on Cook’s Bay and watched the waiters feed the broad Eagle Ray’s swimming in a foot of clear water at the edge of the dining room. The Rays glide along the undisturbed sand as if giant underwater sails.
For days we made love to the sound of the Pacific ocean, snorkeled for hours along the coast, lounged on our patio and partied with KiKi and his wife Lynn, when they rode over on his flamed Softail, via ferry. One day we drove around the island, checked the local arts and crafts, hauled ass to the a ridge near the top of one of the volcanic mountains covered in palm ferns and checked ancient monuments to the natives, built long before the French brought European disease that wiped out 75 percent of the population.
From the majestic crest, called the Belevedere look-out, we looked directly down on the two bays, Cook’s Bay and the Bay of Opunohu. Thick stratus clouds drifted around and past the peaks like mystic ghost ships.
One afternoon, Tbear, Maggie, Layla and I were swept into a school bus and taken to two educational facilities. We ate lunch with the older bunch and spoke to the Tahitian chef who cooks 50 meals a day for both schools and the staff. She spoke fluent English and helped explain the programs. Along with schooling, the kids earn their keep making baskets, weaving black pearls into necklaces and polishing oyster shells for sale as gifts.
During our outrigger testing day, I discovered that JoAnn Bortels had a vast art background that included fighting her way into Parson Art Center in New York. “Two days before my interview, my dad’s garage caught fire. It was smoking and when I opened the side door it exploded. Screaming for help, I tried to crawl in on my belly thinking my dad was inside. All my paintings burned up and my dad was having lunch in town with a friend.” She threw a sketch book into a makeshift folder with one rushed painting she and was still accepted. She’s been approached by Segal Fine art to become a licensed Harley artist and has painted custom bikes for some of the best in the business including Cyril Huze. When she started to flame our outrigger she mentioned custom painting boats, “I love painting boats. They are much more manageable than bikes.” She’s loves the industry and her craft but has a tough edge. I suppose that a small, petite woman who has run her own business for many years would need to be strong to survive, “A builder pulled a gun on me once,” she said. I turned my back and walked out the door. If he had cocked it I would’ve dove.”
One of the best aspects of travel is the people you meet and this trip was no different. Stephano, the New York cop was on the tarmac preparing to leave the airport, when the second plane hit the twin towers. “We were headed out of town to chase down another fugitive,” Steph said. “We jammed back to the station, changed into our uniforms and went downtown. “Everything was so hot. Jet fuel was everywhere and my boots kept melting,” Stephano said. For days he worked on bucket brigades. “We wore masks because we were breathing flesh, blood and asbestos constantly. Some of the guys are getting sick now.” They hired an earthquake expert from California to guide them through the rubble. “We found over 30,000 body parts during the search and clean-up,” Stephano said. A side note to his story included one of the massive shredders suppied by John Gotti, was used during the 9/11 effort, free.
It’s terrific, as Stephano’s stories attest, to be able to spend time with new friends and listen to their stories. I had never met JoAnn’s husband before, but discovered a little known master builder who worked with Eddie Trotta for years. Jimmy was quiet and reserved, but you could sense his love for building custom bikes. The partnership between him and JoAnn will become a well known team in the future. He currently works for Carolina Harley-Davidson, which is one of the five largest H-D dealers in the US and one of two H-D dealers with their own fab shop. Yet together J and J build a couple of bikes a year in their own Waxhaw Creek facility.
The days swept past like a dream we hoped would never end. We swam with fish so radiant that I’m sure Crazy Horse will meld their colors and graphic shapes into paint jobs for years to come. I wish I could describe the radiant Fire fish, White Band Trigger Fish, Reefcrest Parrotfish, Emperor Angefin and so many fluorescent Angel fish there were too many to mention. They moved quickly and illusively yet unafraid of humans. They glided as if the ultimate custom motorcycle lost in a crowd. We caught a furtive glimpse from time to time but were never able to visually capture their glowing essence.
As we departed the islands, it became apparent that this had been a dream come true for many of the gang. It was a wonderful benefit success for the Kiki, his club and handicapped kids of the Tahitian Islands. The next benefit takes place in November and it may be the date for the first annual Run To Tahiti. If interested contact TBear at, tbear@mhcable.com. He’ll keep us posted as the Run Develops.
–Bandit
Don’t stop here. Read about the first Monster Marina on the following page.
Continued On Page 4
